Snakes and Ladders
by Granada-apple
Summary: "Castle, do you realise that Josh is dead? That while we were making out in your living room he was being gunned down? This is a very special and vicious brand of karma."  CHAPTER SIX UPDATED.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The storm was drowning out the murmur of the unusually cheerful music from the radio, determined to sweep her along with it. Beckett hated driving in the rain. She hated the rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers and the futility that seems to accompany their movement, wiping raindrops away only for more to cascade down her screen. She hated the way her vehicle seared through floods, almost as if in pain. She hated how the speed necessary for the wipers to clear her vision made her feel short of breath, anxious, that it took so much effort for her to merely see. Perhaps cutting through the rain made her feel apprehensive, or perhaps she had imagined her feelings to extend to her surroundings, she didn't know. Almost chuckling at herself, she thought about how personifying inanimate objects was something a writer would do, and not a cop.

Staring blankly at the road ahead of her, she relished the moment where she could let her muscle memory take over, and she could shed herself of all thoughts, all emotions. Too much thinking. Too much feeling. Too much of everything. Again, it entered her mind how that probably was characteristic of a writer. Instantly, that traitor of a mind strayed to thoughts of a specific writer.

How dared he? How dared he tell her how she should think? How dared he dictate her feelings? He had no right. He was always poking his nose in places he doesn't belong. She feels riled up at the pointless repetition of these thoughts and she slams her steering wheel in frustration. He had no right to be angry, to feeling anything at all about her choices. Since when did he have a stake in her personal life?

Beckett shook her head, acknowledging to herself for a moment that this development was probably her fault. Castle did not just worm his way in; she let him in. She did not remember when this shift in their relationship took place, a shift so monumental yet imperceptible she had not noticed, and she refuses to mull over just how far and deep he has got under her skin. How did they even get to this point in the first place? Frowning, she shifted the pressures in her brain to push against the gas pedal even harder, disregarding the dangers the gloom of the weather threatened. She knew how. He was always looking over at her with that goddamned longing in his eyes, making it all she can do not to crash into him and kiss his ache away.

But how had longing turned into possession? How did pent-up want translate into the screaming matches they had had in the break room?

In a moment of haze, she came to a stoplight, suddenly realising she had no idea where she was. That after their awful quarrel she had dashed out of the precinct and straight into her car. That she had been driving for so long she does not remember when it had begun raining and she forgets the last moment it was not. She blinked, almost wanting to blink away thoughts of him. Concentrating on the beads of water trapped on parts of the windscreen and untouched by the arm of the wipers, she observed how they rolled individually to merge and form newer and bigger droplets of water, only to be washed away by the violence of the rain hitting her windscreen. It seemed like a pointless cycle and it reminded her of the endless dance she and Castle have been performing for too long. Was it really so obvious that even Josh had seen it? A pang of guilt knocked her out as she discovered that this was the first thought of Josh she entertained the whole of this insane day, and that she had been so furious with the hurried and unmitigated thoughts of Castle she had not even allowed her boyfriend to cross her mind.

The honk of the car behind her startled her out of her reverie and she glanced up to realise the light had turned green. She hurriedly floored the gas pedal, suddenly desiring the warm comforts of her bed and a nice long bath. Before she could react, she saw a dreadful flash of yellow. Her whole body tensed up in alarm and she swung her car with a force she never knew she had to avoid the vehicle that leapt out of nowhere.

She felt her body thrown towards the right and the last ghost of a thought that crossed her mind was how she would never be able to see Castle again.

* * *

><p>Hearing the honking and shouting that usually accompanied a rainy day in New York City, he leant his forehead against the windowpane and allowed himself to melt against its cold surface. The shivers he experienced at the physical contact with the cold glass were nothing compared to the chilling sensations of seeing Beckett's expression change ever so slightly under his rain of accusing words. He was not sure if she was aware, but after watching her for so long he had become somewhat of an expert when it came to the detective's facial expressions that were imperceptible to anyone else. It was not the anger he saw concentrated in the way her jaw clenched that scared him. It was the moment he observed in the hardening of her eyes that conscious decision she made to close him off, as if a switch had been flicked somewhere to bar him of the access he had earned over the past few years, that chilled him to the bone.<p>

Because that's it, he mused. That's it for him. He had pushed too far and now he had surrendered his exquisite view from the inside. That blessed door she had opened for him to explore her further.

But he couldn't help it. The words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could catch himself. And the fury. So much of the feelings he held in his secret heart for the detective he had shoved aside, pushed deep within had snowballed into an unfathomable mess and had poured out of him like a violent storm, so suddenly that he threw it out at her. Instead of any hope of untanglement, he only saw Kate spitting his intentions back out at him onto the floor between them, where they probably belonged.

It all began in the morning when he noticed the inordinate amount of time Kate was spending on her mobile phone, frowning at the screen. She was also uncharacteristically unfocused on the closing of a case they had been working on for the past few days. He willed the device that made his muse upset like that away, seeing from the beginning that it was not so much the device but the man at the other end of the line that needs to be willed away. Knowing better than to ask about the situation between Beckett and Josh, he encased his burning curiosity and respected her space. He even offered to buy the whole precinct lunch for the good work everyone had displayed for the case, but only as an excuse to leave her alone. He remembered her looking up at him from her desk as her curls framed her beautiful face, and he saw the gratitude in her eyes, a private emotion only for him to see, only for him to pick up. She knew he knew. Of all the time he has been spent with her, he doesn't think he will ever forget that one look that bore right into his soul.

She was already in the break room when he returned with burgers and shakes from Remy's and was basically attacked by the entire precinct, except Ryan and Esposito. He joined them at a discreet corner watching her through open blinds as she paced and spoke into the cursed mobile phone. She was clearly agitated and her face was one of confusion and sorrow. That drove a knife into his heart and he knew right then and there that he could never hate any man Beckett was with as long as he brought her happiness, even if that was not him. Ostensibly though, that was not Josh either.

It was only after half an hour had passed since she hung up the phone in defeat that Castle entered the break room with her lunch in hand. "Comfort food?" He had offered lightly, extending the takeaway package. She tilted her head slightly but not enough for him to see her and she received the food, placing them in her lap but leaving them unopened. It must have been the borrowed strength from his kind gesture or her knowledge of his earlier understanding, but Beckett opened up to him in a way he had never experienced before.

"It was about you," she uttered so quietly and her lips barely moved that he wondered if he had imagined it altogether. "The fight," she continued, countering his doubts, "it was about you." A strange sensation coursed through his chest and he could not decide if it was comfort or anxiety. He was silent, waiting for her to elaborate, feeling like his heart was going to pound right through the safety of his ribcage.

"Josh – he – he said that I was limited and closed off and that I never intended," she paused here as her emotions ran over the edge and she had to choke back the tears in her voice, "never intended to be his, because I was in love with you."

Hope. It must have been hope, that crazy, crazy sensation that filled his chest, and he felt like he was touched by sunlight. "But I'm not," her words brought him back to reality and he felt flung off a tall building and rammed into the ground. "I'm not," she repeated, "how can I be? I mean, we are partners. And I – I trust you, but I'm not in love with you. And you're not in love with me. How can I be with you? How will we ever work? I – I told Josh this, and we're trying to work things out." Then, she chucked mirthlessly, a ghost of a laughter, as if the notion of them being in love was so laughable that it should be dismissed.

Oh, how could she? How could she after all this time? After they had been to hell and back? How could she not know, not see, not acknowledge what they had between them? He had been waiting months for her to see. Even if she had no feelings for him, how could she not see the amount of love and devotion he had for her, all laid out in front of him and all over his face wherever he walked? How could she question the things that have not happened yet? How could she have already decided that they were not going to work? How could she have dismissed him so entirely even when her relations with him became an issue with her boyfriend? He felt furious that she could just skip past him and move on.

And it was then that he had lashed out before he knew it or could stop himself, shouting at her to wake up, to stop hiding, to look at him, to love him. Telling her that Josh was right, that she loved him. Asking her how she thought it even slightly possible for him not to love her. Asking her if Josh could give her everything he could give.

"Break up with Josh, please" he said simply, too tired, his feelings long overdue, for any kind of romantic and heartfelt confession, a moment he had fantasised about for so long but was never going to happen now. Her eyes had widened slowly and he could see the anger causing her hands to shake. "Who are you to tell me that I should break up with Josh? How would you know what Josh can and cannot give me? How do you know that I love you? And I do not love Josh, is that what you're saying? How can you assume that?"

She was livid.

Standing up abruptly to fight for her position on the issue, her burger and shake had fallen to the ground with a sickening squelch, and Rick felt his heart fall together with them, mixed up in its terrible mess.

How could he have gone from respecting her space to argue with another man to demanding her to break up with him in just one moment?

The memory of their fight was so real and so raw it took Castle a long pause to realise he was in his home instead of the precinct. And that the bell was ringing. He crossed his living room in three big strides, swinging the door open to find exactly whom he had wanted to see.

"Oh God, Kate," He breathed, "What happened?" She looked pale and banged up, with her right forearm bandaged, a tiny red cut just below her left eye and an ugly bruise on her forehead that was entirely too large for the bandage wrapped professionally over it. She smelled of engine oil and burnt fragments, although he swore he could still whiff a hint of cherries. And she looked equally startled to find herself at his doorstep. They stood in front of each other, as if hovering in midair in radio silence for a while, before Kate stepped into the house without invitation.

"Oh Kate," he lifted his fingers to touch her bruised forehead, before he caught himself and wondered if she was still mad at him, so his hand foolishly hung in front of her face. As if sensing his dilemma, she stepped towards his hand, closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, taking in a few short breaths where he could tell it was painful.

"I, uh, I'm sorry," she mumbled with her eyes still closed, and he stared at the way tears had caught between her eyelashes. She was crying. Her eyes opened and stared right into his. Oh, those piercing emerald eyes. He began "I –", but she interrupted swiftly, shaking her head, "I had been telling myself a lie for so long that it became the truth. I started to believe all the things I told myself about you."

"About how we would never work," she continued and he could barely hear her above the pounding in his ears.

"About how you were not in love with me," her eyes flickered away as she muttered this, as if afraid that he was going to contradict her. Pounding in his goddamned lungs. In his brain.

"About how I was not in love with you," she finished, a precursor of a smile ghosting her lips, "Because I kind of am." It was all he could do not to cry, as he wandered the depths of her eyes, clear and sincere. He could no longer control himself so he threw his arms around her and held her so close they could have melded together. "What happened to you, Kate?" He whispered just above her ear, and could feel her shiver. He was unsure if it was due to the memory of what happened or his closeness.

"I, uh, I was in a car accident. Y'know, just your every day life-altering, near-death event. You're a writer, you should know a thing or two about that." She chuckled her hollow laugh, and he knew she was just trying to reassure him. But a fresh flame of panic seared through him as he parted from her and held her shoulders tightly, "excuse me?"

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about, I was in an accident, and my life flashed before my eyes, that sort of thing. Kind of made me realise you were right, that I wanted you, more than anybody." She shrugged, a small sparkle entering her eyes.

"Oh my gosh, Kate, how could you even be driving when it was pouring outside like that? Where did you hit? What did the doctor say? I can't believe you, Kate! You-"

"Castle," she stopped him, holding his eyes firmly in hers, "I'm fine. I swerved in time to avoid a cab and hit the sides of the road, that's all. Don't worry, alright?"

"That's all?" He was incredulous and refused to be calmed down by her nonchalance.

Cute, she mused, as he ranted on again about her inability to filter dangerous situations from safe ones. She felt at ease, at home, safe, because she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Even the shock of the accident did not faze her.

"What, why are you smiling?" His eyebrows seemed to disappear into his hairline.

"Oh, Castle, shut up and kiss me," she ordered.

He had no choice but to oblige.

He had never imagined sin to taste so sweet. It was heaven. He was drowning in her scent. It was heaven and he was drowning and he never wanted to come up for air. Her lips were cracked, but they were soft and he had never tasted anything so pleasurable in his life. He pushed her into the door and closed any distance left between them, wondering for a moment if he was hurting her. But she clung on to him as if she could breathe him in, and him only. He realised the pent-up want that he had accumulated over the years existed in her too. He deepened his kiss, parting his mouth, prompting her to part hers, sucking on her bottom lip, and finding a new sense of awakening as he elicited a tiny moan from her. Tangling his hands in her hair that somehow still smelled amazing even after the downpour, he left her lips and found her jawline, her neck, that little spot right behind her ear, worshipping each part of her skin as his burned with desire. She fanned that flame when she pulled his hips closer and subsequently rested her cold hands on his warm back, sliding her hands up inside his shirt until they reached his neck and ended their journey in his hair, sending shivers down his spine.

They were so impossibly close that she was him and he was her and he could not tell where he ended and where she began and whose skin was burning and whose heart was soaring and whose desire was whose. He slid her white top over her arms and threw it onto the floor, trailing his hands over her curves in the process, leaving goose bumps in their wake. For a moment, he could only take in the beauty that she was. He was reverent as he kissed down her soft cleavage and her stomach, discovering a purple bruise on her right ribcage. "Oh, Kate," he kissed her injury softly, as she trembled.

Oh, Castle felt so good. She needed him. He was warm and he was tender and he was passionate and he just was Castle, he was not anybody else, and she did not want anybody else. He felt so different from Josh, and she finally knew what was missing, what she had been looking for. Josh just was not Castle. Josh.

Josh. She broke apart from Castle abruptly, as if she was burnt. But she remained in his firm embrace and he could see that her clouded eyes took on a moment of clarity as her body stiffened. This was what Beckett does. She opens herself up, lets him in, gives him that one delicious moment of herself, and then bam, nothing, she clams up and she was gone. No, that was no longer enough for him. He had to have her.

"Kate, shhh, just –", he let his lips finish his sentence for him as they pressed against hers again and she instantly lost all resolve. Good, no more interruptions, he thought, just as her phone cut shrilly through the air and she jumped.

This time he let her go and she backed away from the door into the loft, putting a considerable amount of cold distance between them. He felt lost suddenly and instantly missed her.

"Beckett," she breathed into the phone.

"Hey Beckett," It was Ryan, "a body just dropped." He sounded gentler than usual, as if he thought his words could sting her. She sighed heavily as her chest heaved and Castle could not help but notice the rise and fall of those beautiful breasts.

"Ok, I'll be right there," Beckett said as her other hand combed her hair in frustration. Castle was instantly disappointed at the interruption, but he could see her begin to build up her professional, distant persona, and slowly the Kate he saw a few seconds ago vanished.

"Beckett," Ryan began, and she wondered why he was being so apprehensive. "It was Josh."

Her mouth fell open, and her heart caught in her throat, making her wish to throw up. It was Josh. It was Josh. It was Josh? How can it be Josh? Josh was dead? Oh God, oh God, oh God. She felt sick. Then her eyes found Castle's concerned ones, and she felt a rush of guilt at what she had almost allowed herself to do.

"It was Josh," she repeated the words to Castle as well as to herself.

She stood in the middle of his living room, her upper body covered with just her bra, a dirty reminder of what they had just done, her eyes startled and her mouth sad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

They strode up to the crime scene together, just as they always have. But today is different. She is just an arm's length away but she feels so far he could never reach her, never pull her back. A shroud of vulnerability surrounded her the more she limited herself to the world, to him. His eyes flickered to her every five seconds and he could not help but relive the images of her in his apartment, wounded, crying, honest, bare. He inwardly mourned the missed opportunity with her, but knew that this was not what she needed right now. No matter what, she had cared for Josh and she had let him into places even Castle has not gone.

What had she done to deserve this? He felt a surge of injustice in the pit of his stomach. Not only had more than one person close to her left her, but they had both been murdered. Why was it that the amazing woman who brought treasured closure to families of victims, and who was always in pursuit of the truth, had to suffer such personal tragedies herself? As if death around her hasn't already had an exhausting toll on her. And what about Josh, his thoughts wandered to the man he had so frequently wished had not existed and he feels like the most repulsive person in the world. He was by all accounts a nice guy and did not deserve this either. But Castle had been writing and shadowing the detective long enough to know that justice is never the prevailing framework in which these crimes were committed. So often it had been self-righteousness and greed, abhorrent and unforgivable aspects of human nature.

They arrived at the corner of the street which led to a blind alley, the scene of the crime already crawling with uniforms, police tape, members of the crime scene unit, just going about an ordinary day of work. Ordinary day of work to them.

Beckett froze when she saw the crowd; Lanie kneeling over the body while Ryan and Esposito were discussing the ballistics, holding up bullets. Castle stepped between her and the alley, forcing her to look up at him. Her eyes were hard, vacant but they shifted self-consciously once they made contact with his sea-blue ones. For a while, the words 'are you okay?' sat at the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them, knowing full well how incredibly not okay she was. Instead, he searched for her hands, wanting to squeeze them in comfort, reassuring her that he will always be there for her, although she probably already knows. Just as his hand reached for hers, she snatched hers up to tuck her hair behind her right ear, as if he carried leprosy.

Her eyes refuse to meet his as she said under her breath, "I'm gonna go talk to Lanie." Before catching up with her, he closed his eyes in hurt, feeling the slight sting and finality of her stubborn rejection. He knows right then and there that Beckett has shut the window in which she had given him a peek through and just like that, she was no longer his to contemplate.

"Lanie," Beckett called, "What can you tell me?" He took a deep breath and joined the group.

When Castle saw Josh's limp, lifeless body, he felt like barfing. He was wearing a white Rolling Stones T-shirt, which Castle suspected was rather _him_, a black leather jacket and blue jeans. The whiteness of his shirt was painfully bright as it contrasted with the seeping red stain on the front of his shirt. It reminded Castle of the red and white of the hospital cross, of life surrounding death and death in the midst of life. Josh's hair was even longer than Castle last remembered it and his chiseled face was turning stiff and blue. But it was his eyes, open in wide shock, that were impossible to tear away from. These were the horrified eyes that saw his murderer. Castle wondered what his last image was. He wondered if Josh's life flashed before his eyes. He wondered if Josh regretted fighting with Beckett.

Silently, Castle thanked Josh for doing so much good in the world, for saving kids in Africa, for helping patients with poor hearts and for loving Beckett in the way he knew how. Josh truly did not deserve any of this.

"What happened to your forehead, Kate?" Lanie was alarmed and Castle suddenly remembered Kate had just been in a car accident. Oh, the insanity of this day. Kate waved her hand dismissively. "What can you tell me?" She repeated.

Lanie's words were soft while her eyes were fixed on Kate's lowered head. "He was shot in the chest twice and there are also two shell casings on the floor to match. To find out the model of the gun, I'll have to check it with colleagues at the lab."

Beckett nodded mutely, while Castle and Lanie exchanged a worried look over the top of her head.

"Kate," Lanie began.

"Any other points to note? Was this a robbery?" Beckett interrupted Lanie before she could even begin any semblance of comforting, of the usual "I'm so sorry". Beckett wanted to remain as Beckett the homicide detective for a while longer, and not be seen as Kate the poor girl whose boyfriend was just gunned down in the street.

Esposito and Ryan joined the group standing over the body and Ryan held up Josh's wallet and opened it to reveal a wad of cash. "This was not a robbery," He answered Beckett and she nodded again, not daring to look into any of her friends' eyes, orbs which were burning with sympathy. Esposito continued, filling the silence. No witnesses so far. None in the neighbourhood seemed to have heard the shots.

"What was he doing here in Washington Heights?" Esposito looked around at his colleagues, seemingly helping everyone to take refuge in building theories to avoid the grief Kate felt for Josh and the loss the rest felt for Kate. Maybe this was a temporary cure, but Esposito understood Beckett like a sister, and he and Ryan knew that the last thing she would have wanted was the sorrowful expressions on their faces right now, the ones that surfaced when one tiptoed around the grieving, like they expected Kate to shatter into a million pieces. Esposito and Ryan knew that Kate wanted those emotions to herself and they filled the difficult silence for her.

Beckett cleared her throat, glancing up at her boys. "He uh, he lived a few blocks uptown. He likes to walk to New York Presbyterian, where he is an attending doctor." Ryan opened Josh's wallet again, pulling out the driver's license and checked the address, nodding to correspond Beckett's response. Nobody had the heart to correct her grammar – was, not is. Ryan continued, "Okay, so ostensibly not a robbery. Should we go back to the precinct to check on records now, Beckett?"

A morose pause fell upon them, because in the space where Kate usually orders Ryan and Esposito to knock on doors, or check on facts, she is silent, limp and distant instead. Kate the poor girlfriend was brimming to the surface and she held Beckett the cop back. She feels trapped, asphyxiated, staring at her friends who seem to all want something from her. What do they want from her that she could still give to them? The world around her sank into a blur, as if she was drowning underwater and they were above the surface. They were talking but she could not comprehend the sounds. The world was talking but she could not comprehend the sounds. Her eyes hurt. Her vision failed. She just wanted to let go. What's the point, she thought, what's the point of fighting?

"Ryan! Esposito!" The Captain's bark entered Kate's consciousness, and she feels like she was abruptly dragged out of the water and the whole world confronted her senses the way oxygen knocked out the lungs of one who has been holding his breath. The two detectives left Kate's side to speak with the Captain, but not before squeezing her arm in understanding, a gesture she would have appreciated if she were more lucid. Lanie started to step away as well, and she tugged onto Castle to follow, although Castle was reluctant to leave.

Kate could not bring herself to acknowledge the sad eyes of the writer as he departed along with the group to leave her alone with her grief and her loss and the dead body of her boyfriend. Suddenly she was very aware of Josh's body. Taking a deep breath, she bent her knees and stooped to examine his face. He was no longer Josh. The moment his breath left his lips forever, Josh ceased to exist. Now this man here was just a body, a lump of flesh. Not Josh. Not the Josh who had loved the world. Who had healed the world. Not her Josh. She stroked the cold side of his handsome face, his eyes haunting her. Shaking, she closed his eyes with her open palm, unable to bring herself to bother about leaving fingerprints.

She feels a scream burning in her throat, and she has a sudden urge to sprint away, to kick everything around the alley, to shake Josh. What the hell, Josh? Why are you lying in an alley? Why are you dead on the ground? She just, she just needs to break down. She needs to physically manifest the ache in her heart that had spread to her entire body. She hurts so badly she wants to rip her body apart, to claw at her chest.

"Beckett," she hears the Captain's voice and feels his hand clapped securely on her shoulder. What was he doing here? Her body stiffens and she holds onto the frays of her control as if her life depended on it, ignoring the anguish inside of her. She turns and he pats her shoulder. "Go home, Beckett." She gazed at her superior, who had been like a second father to her. She had never listened to his orders when it came to the investigation of a loved one's case. She had been stubborn and defiant, risking her badge and her life. She knew the thread must have been wearing thin. Hell, she was wearing thin.

Beckett resolved at that point that perhaps she would fight to find Josh's murderer tomorrow. Perhaps she wouldn't. She cannot decide what she wants to be doing tomorrow, but all she needs to do today is run. She cannot face her Captain, her colleagues, Castle. She feels like every time they try and make it better, it only acknowledges that all this is really happening. That Josh is really dead. That with every single sympathetic look she receives, there goes yet another nail hammered into the truth of the matter. One more nail in the coffin.

The Captain's eyes were like that and she hates it, she hates everything, but she deflates. She can't do this anymore.

Beckett nods and whispers, "Yes, Sir."

* * *

><p>He must have stood in front of her metal door for an eternity before he dared to ring the bell. He had left the crime scene almost immediately after Beckett, gone home to process, to write, to try and take it all in, wanting to leave Kate alone as she had seemed to desire. However, the thought of her in pain was too much for his heart. He needed to close the physical distance between them and see how she was. With any luck, she would need him too.<p>

Armed with lilies and Chinese takeaway, he arrived at her apartment but struggled with himself. What if she did not want to see him? Where does he stand with her now? What is the appropriate behaviour? What if he makes it worse? The Chinese food was getting greasy and cold, he thought, and without warning his hand found its way to the doorbell. Damn it, Rick.

He's such an idiot.

He heard shuffling behind the door, and a bout of long silence in which he thinks to himself about a thousand times that this a sign she did not want him here.

Eventually, she opened the door. She was wearing a grey tracksuit and was barefoot, so he was slightly surprised at the difference in their height.

"Castle, go home." She said in defeat, her eyes hollow and her voice terrifyingly empty.

He wordlessly offered the Chinese food and the flowers, reminding himself of the moment in the break room he had similarly extended the Remy's burgers after her meltdown with Josh.

Beckett gave him a steely glare.

"Please, just at least eat something."

"Fine," she took the bag of Chinese takeaway but basically ignored the flowers, her eyes still hollow and her voice still empty. She turned to place the food on the table next to her door and he took the opportunity to step in, against all good sense and all will. He seemed to absolutely lack self-control when it came to Beckett. Castle placed the flowers beside the food while Beckett stood frozen by the door. He could tell that she was preventing herself from punching him in the face or the stomach or elsewhere. Naively, he thought that if that would make her feel better, he would gladly be her punching bag.

Instead, she opted for pinching the bridge of her nose, her face so exhausted that he felt a physical ache in his chest. Before he knew it, he was taking her hand in his, wanting to give her all the strength he possessed, even if that meant leaving none for himself.

She pulled her hand out of his grasp gently. "Don't – don't touch me." She half-turned so she would not have to look into his anguished eyes. "Castle, please, let's just pretend what happened this afternoon did not happen."

He was not prepared for that. Somehow he had no fury left. Neither of them did. They regarded each other with a defeated, dispirited quality. "You can't just dismiss what happened, Kate."

Him calling her Kate, it was almost her undoing. But tears sprang to her eyes and again, she feels like screaming. She feels like she is going to implode, or she has to implode, or she wants to. No difference now.

Finally, she spat, "Castle, do you realise that Josh is dead? That while we were making out in your living room he was being gunned down? This is a very special and vicious brand of karma."

Immediately, she grabbed him and shoved him outside, slamming the door shut, barring him from her apartment, her life, her recovery, her heart.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note: Hello to those out there who are reading! Thank you for the reviews and alerts. I appreciate every single one of them. **_

_**Disclaimer: I realise I have not written one of these things, so here goes. I do not own Castle. Yet. **_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

"Hey man, you should come down to the 12th today. Beckett has been at the murder board since 5 am this morning. She argued with the Captain for an hour to stay on the case."

Esposito's words woke Castle immediately as the 8 a.m. fog that circled his brain cleared with an uneasy speed. Frowning and rubbing his eyes, he responded simply, "I'm on my way." Castle had the most restless night - first attempting to fall asleep by midnight, still unable to stop the uninterrupted rush of thoughts at 2 a.m., falling into deep sleep eventually yet awakening from the vividness of Josh's eyes in his dreams, and listening to Alexis shuffling around the kitchen at around 7 a.m. preparing for school. He had left his bed at that point, responding to an urge to kiss the top of his daughter's head. He wanted to hold her close, grateful that she was the only thing solid and certain in his life now. Sensing that his feelings were on edge and all over the place, Alexis had kissed him back on the cheek and persuaded him to return to his room.

It was when Castle was finally falling back into an abyss of sleep that Esposito had called. Beckett was back at the precinct? Castle sighed at his partner's stubbornness, as he swung his legs out of bed and got up hastily.

* * *

><p>Rick stepped out of the elevator, striding into the bullpen with two cups of coffee in hand. He had swung by the coffeehouse near his place before arriving at the station, as per normal.<p>

Ryan and Esposito were poring over phone records, financial statements, credit and metro card histories, as per normal.

Beckett was seated in front of the murder board examining it, as per normal. She glanced up at Castle as he made his presence known, receiving the cup of coffee he never failed to offer, as per normal.

Except nothing was normal. Rick's walk into the station was tentative and anxious. Ryan and Esposito took turns to look up from their work to check on Beckett. Kate stared at the murder board in absolute silence, lost in a world of her own. Her ache was greater than all of them, and while it was private and controlled within her, it filled the room and seeped into everyone. The activity around the precinct was natural, but forced. They were natural, but forced. One can attempt the effort at complete normalcy, but the tricky thing about normalcy was that no effort was involved, so any effort betrayed the lack thereof. Ironic, Castle mused.

"Good morning, detective," He began, anxious yet loath to join in this charade. Beckett stared at him over the rim of her coffee cup, her eyes unreadable, the way she trained them to be all morning. "Hi Castle," she said, maintaining eye contact for that second too long before reverting to the murder board.

Esposito approached Castle, slapping his upper arm slightly, "Hey there bro, thanks for coming." He uttered the last few words softly. Castle nodded in recognition. "How is the investigation going?"

Kate jumped at the opportunity at normalcy yet again by answering, "We spent the morning checking the usual avenues – phone records, credit history, etc. – nothing seemed to have popped so far. Josh's sister is coming into the station in a few hours and we will ask her some questions then."

"We might want to revise that statement," Ryan walked up to them, an open brown folder in his hands. "These are Josh's bank statements. He has been surviving on just enough cash, but not more. It seems he withdraws thousands of dollars at once, mostly to beneficiaries like Red Cross and the Save the Children fund. Two months ago, a mysterious $10,000 was withdrawn from his account, and that left him with only $45 in his account."

"Where was the money transferred to?" Kate frowned.

"To a bank account in the Cayman Islands, owned by a certain Mr. John Smith." Ryan held up a small piece of post-it.

Kate blinked, "That's the most common name in the United States."

"It's a dummy account," Castle announced and Kate gave him that unfathomable expression again. She took a deep breath, "Alright, Ryan you check the money trail. Esposito, comb the phone records one more time, this time concentrating on activity that took place approximately two months ago."

"On it." Esposito pat Beckett's shoulder while Ryan nodded affirmatively, before they returned to their desks. Castle took his usual seat next to Beckett's table and she followed his movement. He could not tell if what her eyes conveyed was thinly veiled sorrow, but her heavy silence informed him that she had not known about this mysterious $10,000 before. Seems like Josh had his own secrets after all. There just is nothing like a murder investigation that will uncover all dirty laundry.

Castle asked gently, "Did you know about the money?"

The corners of her mouth lifted grimly, and she was about to respond when a feminine voice called for her, "Kate?"

They turned together at the source of the voice – a tall brunette woman, who had eyes like Josh. Castle momentarily relived the image of Josh's open horrified eyes again and he forced himself to blink it away. The brunette's eyes were not horrified, but sad. Beckett stood up promptly and said, "Jean." They shared a short hug and Castle could see Kate stiffen at the sudden contact. Perhaps it was because she was Josh's sister, or perhaps because Kate had prevented any form of human connection since news of Josh's death met her, but Castle felt the sudden urge to pull Kate into his embrace, wanting to protect her so much it physically hurt him.

"Jean, let's have our conversation in the break room over there." Kate started to move Jean towards the break room. Castle, unable to stop himself, followed the pair of them. As he strolled behind Beckett into the room like the shadow he was, she looked back at him at first with disapproval and suspicion, but slowly became defeated instead, allowing him to close the door behind him. He thought she must have been too jaded to resist any argument right now.

Kate and Jean sat across the table from each other, while Castle thought it wise to stand by the break room door, offering them a considerable distance. He knew that the mourning of Josh's death was something he could never partake in, no matter how he tried or how he understood, he was just an outsider when it came to Josh. Hell, he feels like an outsider when it came to Kate in general. Kate pressed her fingers together on her lap while Jean pressed hers to her temple, the sheer exhaustion speaking for itself.

"How are you holding up, Jean?" This was the first sign the whole morning that Kate had exhibited any personal interest in the case. She had been acting as if the picture of Josh on their murder board was not a picture of a man she had shared much of her life with. She had been acting as if grief was out of the equation. Was this really how a person should cope with death? This was not normal. This was not healthy. He wanted to scream at her to stop. To just allow herself to grieve. His heart was breaking for her and he had to wonder for a while – how many times can a heart break before it dies?

Jean's response interrupted Castle's thoughts, "I'm doing as well as I possibly can. What about you, Kate? Are you sure you should be investigating his case?" She reached out to grab Beckett's hand and he once again sensed the stiffening of her body, so slight it was invisible to anyone else. "I, uh, I'm fine. There's no one else I want to be on this case. I have to do this."

Jean nodded, pursing her lips and letting go of Beckett's hand. Beckett continued, straightening her back, "This is Richard Castle and we have to ask you a few questions about Josh." Jean looked up at Castle for the first time, examining him closely. "I know who he is. You're the novelist shadowing Kate, aren't you? Josh mentioned this to me before."

A flash of panic indulged all his nerves at once. Does Jean know about the fact that Rick had been a thorn in the side of Josh and Kate's relationship? Does she know that they had fought about it? Once again, he felt horrible, as if he had snatched Beckett away from Josh, when in reality Beckett has never been his. If Jean knew, she did not let on, and if Beckett was sharing the same thoughts as Castle, this did not manifest in her behaviour or expression either. After a long torturous moment, the two women returned their concentration to each other and Castle felt it opportune to leave the room. "I'll get you some coffee, Jean." He excused himself.

Beckett did not hesitate to ask Jean routine questions about their victim, desperate to stay distant from the case. She did not want to think of Josh, think of how he was great for her, think of how she was betraying him during his last few waking moments. She did not want to miss him, miss his hands, his soothing voice, his incredible ability to make her feel like the world is a better place. Everyone was silent around her today, but their mental questions of "Are you alright" and expressions of sympathy were flooding and screaming at her, and she was desperate for them to shut up. She feels like a prisoner of her own grief, desiring to escape it and to embrace it at the same time, needing to hide her sorrow behind her eyes and to wear her ache like the ragged dress it was just in the hope that it would disappear. Beckett has no choice, she feels, but to get back to work. She needs to retain this part of herself. She needs the truth about Josh's murder. She needs her sanity. Or this will propel her down a rabbit-hole and no one, not even Castle, can save her then.

How was Josh acting the last few days leading up to his death? She had asked Jean, but she knew the answer deep within. He had been acting anxious and depressed because of her, because of their fight. Bordering on the thought of their fight being possibly related to his murder, Beckett could feel her throat start to clam up. Could it be? Could she have driven him to offend some punk on the street? This was only one of the million theories that had already run through her mind, but this was the only one which haunted her dreams and her daylight.

Did Josh have any money problems? Has he ever mentioned the withdrawal of $10,000? Was Josh in any kind of trouble? As for these questions, Beckett genuinely had no clue, yet this was equally, if not more, painful. How could she have been in a relationship with someone and not known that he was living on $45 in his bank account? This gnawed at her heart like oversized rats chewing on rope.

Jean had no clue either. Josh was a doctor; he had a stable income and a decent job. He was happy. Why would he be in any kind of trouble?

"Josh was a great man. He really was. And I cannot imagine him not getting along with anyone, let alone having someone murder-" Jean stopped herself there, choking on uninvited tears. Beckett was used to families of victims saying things like these during their interviews. The victims were always great people, and everyone always loved them. This probably was the living's way of honouring the dead, by remembering them in the best possible light. However, when it came to Josh, Beckett knew that these statements were neither generic nor inaccurate. Josh really was a great man, and everybody really loved him.

"He really liked you," Jean gazed at Beckett, as if she wanted to recover some part of her brother from her, and Beckett avoided her eyes, unable to accept this sudden shift of the conversation that tried to push Kate into her feelings, her anguish.

When Jean saw that Beckett could not respond, she continued, "I'm working on the funeral plans now. The memorial service will be three days from now. You will come, won't you?"

Kate could not ignore Jean any longer, and she took a sharp intake of breath, unable to tell if her rib cage was still hurting from the car accident she was in or the disease of her broken soul. She felt like her heart had exploded into fragments in pain, and these little shards were coursing through her blood, cutting her everywhere, and causing her body to burn with each beating of her pulse. She wished she were dead instead. She wished she were dead, so she would not have to be sitting in the break room, talking to the sister of her dead boyfriend. She could not lose any further control on the turmoil that threatened to break out, so she spoke, steadying her voice.

"Of course I will, Jean."

* * *

><p>After Jean left the precinct, Beckett returned to her desk. Castle could tell she was a little shaken, a little sadder than she had allowed herself to be earlier. While his heart longed for her to smile again, he was glad that she was not pretending to be okay any longer. Sometimes, we need to acknowledge that we were not okay, just because we were not. "Let's go, Castle," she picked up her car keys off the table.<p>

"Where are we going?"

"While Ryan and Esposito are working on the withdrawn cash, we can head down to New York Presbyterian to interview some of Josh's colleagues."

He picked up the bear claw he had obtained from one of the uniforms and gave it to her. "Have a bear claw, Beckett."

They walked alongside each other towards the elevator and she shook her head, "No thanks, Castle."

"Kate, look at me," he demanded at the doors of the elevator, and after a long moment, she sighed, turning to stare into his electric gaze. "Have the damned bear claw, Kate." He shoved it into her hands and she supported the snack while he let go, stepping into the lift as the doors opened.

Startled, she found a place next to him and bit into the bear claw.

When she did not say a word, Castle experienced slight regret at the ominous silence. He stole a glance at her. Silent tears were coursing down her cheeks. It reminded him of rain. He knew better than to say anything or touch her, so all he did was stand next to her, biting back the urge to cry himself.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: Castle? Not mine. Intense feelings and masochistic urges to relive the finale episode for the rest of the summer hiatus? Definitely mine. **_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

New York Presbyterian was just like any other hospital; dressed with whitewashed walls with a tint of colour, blue and orange, as if the brightness of the colours could inspire greater confidence. Medical personnel were bustling about, carrying lab tests, attending to the injured, and bending over patient files, all in the strangely comforting panic of the Emergency Room. Castle and Beckett walked past the scores of lethargic patients and towards the nurses' station. She had returned the stony mask to her face, conjuring the pretense needed to protect herself. She was strong. Beckett was made of steel. But she was breaking. Castle can feel her; he can see her tethering over the edge. All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms. Instead, he walks as she walks. He is silent, as she is silent. He stands where she stands.

"Hi there," Beckett addressed one of the three nurses at the station and the rather plump and kind-looking lady looked up. "I'm Detective Kate Beckett, this is Richard Castle. We are here to ask a few questions about Doctor Joshua Davis."

"What a strange coincidence," The nurse looked oddly from Beckett to Castle, "he happens to be absent from the hospital today, which he never is, at least not without informing us."

Beckett paused, holding her breath, and in that small space of a moment, Castle marveled at the depths of her strength yet again. If the woman he loved was ever murdered, he didn't think he would have the courage to take on the case, plunging into a world where he had to remind himself at each corner he turns that he was never going to see her again. The thought feels nearly crippling and he has to physically hold on to the nurses' desk to stop himself. Yet, the woman he loved was here, performing all that he could never bring himself to, causing him to love her and hate her, love her impossible resolve and hate her for doing this to herself.

She finally spoke, "Doctor Joshua Davis was murdered yesterday. We're here to investigate his homicide."

The nurses around gasped in collective shock. They melted into disarray and held on to each other. How did this happen, they mumbled. How can it be. Did they know that Josh's girlfriend was standing right in front of them, looking for answers?

"This is horrible, detective. We just saw him the day before. He was an excellent surgeon and an honourable man." The first nurse said quietly, her eyes still in shock. "Who could have done this to him?"

Beckett cleared her throat, as if trying to hide away her anguish, "That's what we're trying to find out. Did you know Doctor Joshua well?"

The three ladies glanced around at each other and shook their heads. A second nurse, who looks fresh and new, responded, "It was really mostly too busy in the hospital for any conversation beyond small talk. He was a nice guy, y'know, but he had a lot on his plate. Have you talked to his girlfriend?"

Again, Kate paused. Her pain was so palpable he feels choked by it as well. Castle helps with the questioning without hesitation, "Was anyone here at the hospital particularly close?"

"Precisely," the second nurse points out, "the girlfriend I was talking about. Doctor Meg Miller."

What? Josh was dating another doctor? Immediately, Castle feels his stomach stir with an outpour of what unmistakably feels like rage. How could he do this to Kate? The woman who had buried her pain to catch his killer? He feels sick, but his mind goes back to the afternoon when Kate was in his loft, kissing him until he desires no tomorrow. How had they allowed this insane mess?

This time Kate speaks, her voice so calm he shivered, "Doctor Meg Miller? Where can I find her?" The nurses give her the directions to the cardiology department. She mutters a thank you and leaves them to mourn over the doctor they barely knew. She walks quickly, in front of Castle, and turns at all the right corridors. Castle mulls over how many times she had strolled down these halls to meet Josh, and he wonders why the nurses do not seem to know her. For a while, he resents their information about Doctor Meg Miller. But he knows he should not kill the messenger, and he just needs his anger directed somewhere, because he could not unleash it on a dead man. Beckett strides more and more quickly, before she dashes abruptly into a door hidden at the corner of the building. Without thinking, Castle runs in after her, his face overflowing with concern.

She was holding onto a brown paper bag, one of many stacked in abundance on the shelves of what seemed like a storage closet, her face covered by it, as she retched into it. It was the most gut wrenching sound he had ever heard. It seemed like she was hurting so much her body was rejecting and attempting to expel all the pain in her system. If only we could just vomit our ache away. He hovers awkwardly around her, not knowing how to comfort her in a way that respected her boundaries, unsure if she would shirk at his contact.

When she removes the bag from her face to breathe, she coughs almost endlessly so he moves in to stroke her back, as if to smoothen paper. They have not been this close since they were in Rick's apartment, and her eyes search for his, haunted and haunting. He feels her sorrow, radiating from her like heat, shrouding her, feeding on her, overcoming her and becoming her.

Kate closes her eyes and, unable to help herself, leans into Rick's large hand on her upper back, needing him for that moment, for as long as she lived. His warmth felt so good on her shriveled frame and she relishes it, soaks it up. He helps her to let go of her pain for a while, let it run wild, so it could escape her. She allows herself to release a half-sigh that transformed into a sob, and he brings her just a little closer. If only she could have him forever, she thought, and she craved the way his body melded into hers. It was too dangerous a thought, and she crushes it in its infancy, opening her eyes and removing herself from his touch. Kate jumps quickly towards the door, as Castle stood immobile, forgetting how to move. It was all too familiar. He was reminded of the day she untangled herself from his embrace, when she felt it almost necessary to place physical distance between them to deny the lack of an emotional one, when she stood just feet away, receiving that call that brought them here. He knew from the way she would not look into his eyes that she was reminded of that afternoon too.

"You okay?" He asked gently, thinking that if she broke into pieces, he would catch her.

She inhaled, "Yeah." After a long while, "Thank you."

"Always," he mumbled, almost sadly, and it was all she could do not to collapse like a rag doll on the ground and empty herself of the torment, of the way she needed him the more she refused him. No, she could not break down here. She felt like if she allowed herself to indulge in her grief for any moment more, she would burst and rip the stitches she had used to mend herself, even though that was precisely all she wanted to do. Burst and rip. Burst and rip. Turning away and taking a deep breath, she said, "Let's go."

* * *

><p>"How could he be dead? I just- I just saw him that morning." Doctor Meg Miller was a tall redheaded cardiologist whose confidence had seemed overshadowed by only her compassion. It was difficult to detest her, the same it was near impossible to resent Josh for leaving Kate behind to save lives in Africa. She was an attractive woman, but her eyes were beginning to look haunted, as empty as Kate's, as horrifying as Josh's.<p>

"He came into the hospital the morning of his death?" Kate asked, her tone professional. Except for the way her body seemed to tremble, once again only perceptible to Castle, she seemed no less like a homicide detective on a regular investigation. She and Castle were sitting next to each other, a desk away from the female doctor.

"Yes. Yes, he was on call the whole night. We had breakfast together, and he left the hospital at around one pm." One pm. That's about four hours before his time of death.

"Did he mention where he was heading to afterwards?" Castle spoke.

Meg shook her head.

"Was he having any troubles that you know of? Financially or at work?" Castle thought of the $10,000 that Josh had withdrawn from his bank account. Meg responded thoughtfully, "He was having a difficult time actually. A while back, the family of a patient he operated on came into his office and basically screamed at Josh, yelling all kinds of horrible things. This man's daughter had died on the table. It was terrible. She was a college student."

Beckett pursed her lips, "What kind of horrible things?"

"Stuff like 'I'm going to kill you', 'A life for a life'," Meg shuddered while Beckett and Castle glanced at each other. Could this be it? A misguided quest for revenge? Could this be why Josh was now gone?

"Do you know the name of the patient?"

"I think her last name was Brookes." Kate mindlessly wrote this down, but the next question rolled out of her, too quickly, as if she had no control over herself.

"What was the nature of your relationship with Doctor Joshua Davis?" Kate began, and Castle could not help but think about how this question would have been phrased differently under different circumstances.

"We were," Meg paused, "We were friends."

"We were given the impression that you were romantically involved."

Meg sighed, tears clouding her eyes and spilling over almost instantly. "Josh was such a good man. We were colleagues, but I harboured a liking for him since I met him, although he was happily attached. To a detective, actually." At this point, Castle felt like the whole situation was almost laughable. How did everyone not notice that Beckett was the girlfriend, the detective? How was Kate doing this? How was she sitting through an interview with another woman Josh had been so familiar with? This was like a travesty. "But recently, Josh had been having problems with his girlfriend. He never told me about it, he was rather private like that. But last night he had seemed so angry. I had never seen him this way before. In a fit of a moment, we slept together."

The following silence that ensued was impossible to endure. Kate felt so genuinely exhausted she could not even register the shock of her boyfriend having cheated on her before his death. She could only grip her knees as tightly as she could, concentrating all that is left of her energy on the manner in which her knuckles went completely white, and she feels like she is going to squeeze herself into paralysis. But once she glanced at the way Doctor Meg Miller was crying in agony, her shock transforms into fury, before it slides into a wave of relief that crashed upon her, awakening her to the miserable silence.

However, her anger steadily returns as Meg continued, "It was wrong. I know it. I know it was wrong. But when it was over, he was immediately apologetic. He said he needed to talk to his girlfriend. I was so angry with him then, because he never saw me. He only saw his girlfriend, that detective. But-but how can I be angry with him now?"

How had his attempt at an apology turned into the ugly argument Josh and Kate shared over the phone, the one Castle had witnessed in the precinct? Kate wonders if there was anything that she actually knew about her boyfriend. First, the mysterious payment. Now, the secret lover. She had not realised that a relationship with her was so difficult that Josh had to die first before honesty was possible. She feels like laughing. Instead, she bites her lip in an attempt to subdue her feelings, to suppress the cruel mirthless laugh that threatened to escape her throat.

"Where were you between 3.30 pm and 4 pm, Doctor Miller?"

Meg Miller looked taken aback at the question as she blinked her tears away, "I was here. I was in a four-hour surgery. You can check."

"Don't worry Doctor Miller, I'll be sure to." Beckett stood up, her eyes hard, regarding Meg Miller with a coldness that could freeze hell over.

As Castle stood to follow Beckett, Meg called out helplessly, "Detective Beckett, do you happen to know Josh's girlfriend?"

Kate halted, her hand on the door, so far away, so lost in herself, that Castle can feel her disappearing once again. She had opened and closed again, like a damned beautiful but stubborn flower.

"No," she answered, "No I do not."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Hi guys, I hope this is a satisfactory chapter. It took a long while of recovery after the Castle finale before I could write anything original, but I finally decided to crawl out of my hole. Thanks for your support so far. Reviews validate the writer. <em>**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

She had woken up this morning, feeling like someone had thrown an axe into her head. The night before was a blur. She only remembers kissing. She remembers warm, soft, comforting lips. She remembers feeling alive again. She remembers feeling giddy with a grim sense of satisfaction. She remembers thinking _well Josh, two can play at this game_.

Her fingers immediately reach for her temples and the middle of her forehead, as she tried to press the headache away. She shuts her eyelids, in an attempt to conjure some images of the night, which she can already extrapolate was probably a bad idea. She begins to recall his large strong hands, his agony that seemed to mirror hers. And she had thought that whatever she wanted, he was willing to give. She is not able to remember anything else, except that afterwards she had dreamt of Josh. She does not remember the details of the dream either, only that it consumed her heart in a fire of rage.

So, she had woken up this morning, feeling like someone had thrown an axe into her head, but not before ripping out the contents of her chest entirely.

She is spent. She can't remember the last time she feels like this. She thinks about her mother's death. It was the same, but it was different. She curled herself into a tight ball, thinking that maybe if she became small enough, she would disappear. Just let me disappear. Just let me go.

Then, she hears footsteps, familiar ones, accompanied by the bittersweet aroma of coffee beans that wafted into the room, making her head splitting ache a little better. Oh, Castle. She smiled, thinking about how he would not let her disappear, would not let go, and somehow she didn't seem to mind so much. Oh, but Castle, what was he doing here? She shot up in her bed, holding her comforter protectively in front of her body, but the ache in her head protests her sudden movement.

"Ouch," Beckett flinched.

"Hangover?" Castle stepped closer and the fragrance of his aftershave blended with the smell of her coffee, enveloping her and clinging on to her.

She shifted from him towards the other end of the bed, her eyes wary. "Castle, what are you doing here?" She notices for the first time that he is wearing a large NYPD shirt and grey sweatpants which look vaguely familiar, as if they belong to an old boyfriend. Oh God. Castle is there in her apartment making coffee for her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Did he spend the night? From the way his hair tousled most adorably, she figured he did. Did he-did they-? Oh God, oh God, oh God. Had she invited him over in a fit of jealous frustration? To get back at her already dead boyfriend? The futility of it all sinks upon her shoulders, and she sags, her head pounding even harder than before.

"Oh," His eyes, expressive as they always were, filled with disappointment. "You don't remember."

Her heart rattles almost as badly as her head as she observed his change in expression, and she has to look away, as if his eyes can scald her. This was not how she wanted it to happen. She feels cheapened. She feels like she had turned something sacred and precious into something vapid and sickening, the result of unresolved feelings towards another man and the gaping hole in her heart. He does not deserve to merely be a means to an end. They do not deserve this. This was exactly why she had wanted to maintain her distance from him. It had felt like she was dishonouring her relationship with Josh if she had continued her intimacy with Castle, after their sweet little hellish indulgence. Yet, if she allowed herself to give into Castle's longing looks and those lips laced with soft desire that was only matched by hers, she would have been doing so in the midst of her grief for Josh. Either way, she can't win. She craves Castle's skin on hers the more the memory of his urgent embrace eludes her, and she needs him in such frenzied desperation. But the more she needs him, the more she feels guilt burning her lungs. Guilt for cheating. Guilt for loving. Guilt for acting on an impulse so blatantly wrong.

And now she does not even remember.

"Castle, I-" She starts, but she is unsure about what she wants to say. He looks so forlorn that she muttered in regret, "I'm so sorry, Rick."

"Sorry?"

"I just-I… I didn't mean for it to happen last night."

Realisation dawned in his eyes and a little smile cracked on his lips, reminding her slightly of a sunny side up. He sat on the far edge of her bed, careful not to invade her space and set down the coffee mug. "Nothing happened last night, Kate."

He watched her frown in confusion, her curls messy but still beautiful, her eyes a stunning shade of willow green under the breaking daylight, though they are distracted by her exhaustion. She does not remember the events of last night, which does not surprise him considering how intoxicated she had got, but disappoints him just a little, because it had been one of the most intimate and amazing moments he has shared with another person. The fact that this proximity was with her, the woman who stole his every thought and the muse who transformed him completely, was so extraordinary it was heartbreaking.

After Beckett and Castle had left the hospital yesterday, Beckett had insisted on driving Castle home before descending into her private grief. It didn't matter how much Rick had protested, how much he needed to be with her as much as he thought she needed to be with him. But she was trying to deal with the sudden revelation of Josh's infidelity the way she handled everything else – staring it down. She tried to stare down her loss and her betrayed feelings the way she stared down suspects. But how were they the same? Perps were fierce, loud and more often than not, capable of inflicting physical injury. But how could they compare to the way Kate's unbelievable pain ate her from within, enlarging with every minute she ignored it, trying to package it, bury it, pretend it was something else, instead of wrestling with it.

She was paralysed with so much agony she could only bring herself to her alcohol cabinet. She was so tired of feeling. She just wanted to exist in stupor. To drink and only drink. And it was in that state of unmitigated intoxication that she had called Castle up, invited him to her apartment.

"_Castle," she smiled languidly at him, her eyes dazed, once she opened the door to welcome her partner, a worried look on his face that endeared her to him even more. She stumbled into him as he stepped in and he caught her in surprise. "Kate, you're drunk." _

_She had flung herself onto him then and there, without reservation or pride, kissed him, devoured him, consumed him. She was no longer trembling, no longer retching, but he knew she was still hurting. Her lips taste forbidden, and they burn his with the feel of vodka. They were urgent and they were desperate, as if Kate needed him for air. They pulled his upper lip into a delicious bite, as she ran her tongue over his teeth before sucking on where she had bit him, diminishing his ability to think in good sense. Oh God. He thought then that whatever she wanted, he was willing to give. _

_Kate fisted the front of his buttoned shirt and pulled him as they crossed the living room as a unit and landed on her couch together, him on top of her, his lips never leaving hers, never wanting to leave hers. He had no idea how but she had already ripped his shirt off his shoulders, buttons spraying through the air. Her strength was arousing. His mouth left hers to wander the nape of her neck, territory that begged to be kissed. He moved slowly and reverently down her jawline, sucking on her flawless skin, his lips worshipping the length of her throat while she arched her body into his, her breathing heavy with lust. He let his tongue circle in the hollow between her collarbones and slid towards the valley between her small soft breasts. She moaned in pleasure, prompting him to glance up at her face, in awe. Her eyes were half-closed, but he could still perceive her dark pupils, coated with want. _

_It was her eyes, that would have ordinarily drawn him in, made him her slave without question, but it was her eyes this time that halted him. He knew she was clearly acting without judgment, and right now he was just taking advantage of her vulnerability. He sat up immediately and attempted to stand, but her strong legs held him in place. "Rick, please…" _

"_Kate," he was helpless, and he wanted so badly to give her what she wanted, to sin for her, even at the price at his salvation. _

"_Kiss me, Rick." She whispered. _

"_Kate, I can't. I can't." He forcefully escaped her grasp, before he could not control himself, and she stared up at him as he stood over the couch. She just stared at him, her eyes unblinking, until all of a sudden, without warning, she crunched her face in an ugly sob. Oh, Kate. His heart tightens at her sorrow._

_She would not be stopped. She cried until she screamed, and he moved her on the couch to collect her in his arms, rocking her. She cried until she screamed, and she screamed like an animal inhabited her heart, and her screams were raw, until she collapsed into sobs. And when her sobs began to calm, she moaned again, her anguish so overpowering it shook her entire body and knocked into him. _

"_Shh, Kate." He whispered, over and over, while she shook violently, emptying her soul of her pain. She cried and cried. She cried for Josh. She cried for herself. She cried for Castle. She cried for lost love, messy love. She cried for the dead. She cried for the living. She cried until she had no energy left. She had nothing left. She was the crying and the crying was her. And for a while, all she could hear was his whispering. She didn't know what he was whispering, but she clung on to it any way. She had no vestige of energy left in her, so she could not even hold on to him, the last person left to stand resolutely with her. But he carried her, and he held her, and that was all she needed. That was all she needed. So, she cried, until she fell into sleep, in his arms. _

_It was a few hours later that Castle had awakened to an ache in the middle of his back, realising that he was still on Beckett's couch, her small frame in his arms, her hair still wet from where the tears stained. He closes his eyes to breathe her in, kissing her hair, before struggling to stand without moving her. Slowly, he strolled into her bedroom and bent to drop her gently on her bed. He lifted the hair from her forehead and kissed her again, this time on her temple. Just when he was about to exit her bedroom, he heard her whisper "Castle." _

_She was shivering and she muttered, "Don't leave." _

_And leave, he didn't. Whatever she wanted, he was willing to give. So, he stayed, reveling in the way her body curled into his, and spending the whole night in a half-conscious reverie, thinking he would not exchange this for anything else._

* * *

><p>So, here they were. It was the morning, and she could not remember. It was okay, he thought, knowing that the tenderness of the previous night will stay a part of him forever. He was infinitely glad that they had not completed what they started, because he knew they would both regret the deed, no matter how much they both craved it. How can something that felt so right be so wrong?<p>

He handed her the coffee mug, while she sat in silence, trying to anchor herself to memories. "Have your coffee and wash up," Castle stood from the bed.

"What happened last night, Rick?" Her use of his first name made her skin tingle, and she felt an odd sense of soothing familiarity. He searched her face with his eyes, "You were sad, Kate. You were sad, and I was here."

You were sad and I was here. His simple sentence reverberated in her mind and she chewed over it, while he smiled, "I'm going to prepare breakfast."

After he left her room, his scent stayed, the way the feel of his arm around her waist lingered, as profound as phantom pain, but as calming as a lullaby. She does not seem to remember anything, except his touch. Despite her headache, she feels strangely at peace, at home. And for the first time in days, she feels herself again.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hi friends! This chapter was originally supposed to contain some more investigation into Josh's death, but it became too long and I felt it appropriate to end where I did. I never really realised how challenging it was to balance the storylines of the characters and the plot of the cases. Kudos to the Castle writers for delivering such spectacular episodes that manage to succeed at both. Anyway, the way I wrote Kate's crying scene was inspired largely by the raw sadness of the book A Mighty Heart and the way Angelina Jolie knocked the grief scene out of the park. If you have not seen the movie or read the book, please check it out. <strong>_

_**Some shameless advertising - I have begun another story some time ago titled What Happens in Krabi, a more light-hearted installment, as compared to this one. So, do give it a try! Thanks for all your support so far. I eat it all up. **_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Kate and Rick rode in the same car to the precinct in the morning. Acutely aware of how it would look to the rest of the station that they were arriving together, she realised she did not mind the picture so much. Rick was silent in the car, as she drove. Occasionally as she glanced over, she saw the corners of his mouth curve slightly, and she wondered what made him look so serene. She also wondered if she looked the same, because she certainly felt a sense of comfort, as the thought of waking up today with Castle bringing her coffee caused warmth to bloom in her chest, like ink spread on paper.

For the first time in days, Kate was glad not to feel guilt gnaw at her heart, or anger causing a riot in her gut, or grief just drowning her. She wondered if this was inoculation at work. Does being around the idea of death all the time make you somewhat immune to it? Does the fact that she has lost her mother before make her more prepared to accept this loss of Josh? The sharpness of the ache in her chest that accompanied any thought of her mother's unresolved murder indicated otherwise to her. She needed answers then, just as she pursued the truth now.

Her calm was because of him. Kate shot Castle another curious look, contemplating his soothing presence in her life. Castle was always there. The fact that they had not slept together last night was somewhat a comforting notion. She admired him and thanked him silently for the restraint he has shown, for not taking advantage of her vulnerability, even when she had shown willingness to take their relationship further before - before the mess that had become her personal life. The events of last night now served as the only reminder that she was a good person and that she treasured fidelity in human relationships. Any shame she felt at allowing herself to sink into intoxication Kate transformed almost instantly into determination to find Josh's killer. At this point, she just wanted to put this whole portion of her life behind her.

"What are you thinking about?" She looked pointedly at Rick.

He looked at her in surprise, as if he was a little boy caught doing something wrong. "I, uh, I was just thinking about the case."

Yeah, right. He was hot on the case, all right, the case of how beautiful Kate had looked when she woke up this morning, even when she was disoriented and slightly hung over. She had looked so incredibly wracked with remorse when she assumed that they had slept together. As much as that would have satisfied Rick amazingly, he knew she needed him to be a friend, not an accidental lover. Besides, if/when they do take their relationship further, Rick wanted it to happen out of love, and not a desperate struggle to feel better. After his assurances that they had not done anything stupid, Kate looked so relieved she seemed to instantly look younger. She had smiled at him as she ate the breakfast he prepared, a private smile that seemed reserved for him only. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. He felt a sense of pride knowing that he had made her feel better, after the hell of emotions she had been going through.

For that morning, it did not matter that Kate's boyfriend had just been murdered. It did not matter that they were perpetually stuck in this almost-there-never-there, almost-lovers-hardly-friends-anymore stage. For that morning, the world just contained the two of them. They were just eating their breakfast with each other.

"What about the case? Did you think of something?" She looked at him expectantly. It was then that he realised Kate had pulled over and the car was parked outside the 12th.

"Oh, I was just going through it in my mind," Rick spoke slowly. She made a gesture for him to go on. "So, Doctor Meg Miller mentioned Josh was in the hospital in the morning. He's found in the alley in the late afternoon. Where was he the whole day? Did anyone see him?"

She nodded, the same questions having gone through her mind before. "Yes, and why was he in the alley? If he was walking, was he walking to the hospital or from, or somewhere else entirely?"

"Did he contact you at all during this period of time?" Castle looked worried as the question slipped out of him.

Kate shook her head, wearing a frown. "After our fight on the phone, which I assume began as an attempt to explain his night with Doctor Miller, I had no contact with him. My day became rather busy, what with being caught in a car accident and all." Her tone was mildly mocking, half-joking, but as she turned to acknowledge Rick, her eyes were sad. He said nothing in reply, and a long look passed between them.

The silence pressed on them like an unbearable summer day, but it offered much more than words could express. Both of them knew Kate had missed out a very significant event that happened between them that day – that almost-encounter at his apartment. The absence of words exchanged on this subject hovered over them more than its presence ever could. Rick felt that there simply was nothing he could say. All he wanted to do was kiss her. The more he thought that, the more he felt like ants were crawling all over his ribcage to get to his heart. As a writer, being unable to express himself always made him uncomfortable, and he was just short of wringing his hands in anxiety.

Kate sighed, breaking the electric contact between them. He knew then that more important things weighed on her heart, and once again Kate only needed him as a friend, and not a reminder of what could have been.

"Are you suspecting Doctor Miller to be involved?" Castle asked, his eyes trained on the entrance of the 12th through the windshield of the car.

"It's possible that she might have had an altercation with Josh out of resentment. The fact that Josh did not consider her feelings after they spent the night together does seem like a motive." Kate considered her words carefully, trying to squeeze the ache out of her heart. "But considering she was on call during the time of the murder, it seems unlikely. Plus, two gunshot wounds to the chest doesn't really say 'crime of passion' to me."

"I remember Doctor Miller mentioned something going on at the hospital-"

"The college student who died on Josh's operating table, yes."

"An eye for an eye, the oldest motive in the book!" Castle turned to examine Kate's profile.

"Yes, Josh mentioned this case a while back. She bled out. There was nothing he could do." Kate's eyes were cast downwards. Castle stared at her lashes.

"The family of this student certainly was in no frame of mind to think logically. Their daughter was a college student, still in the prime of her youth, probably on to do great things in life. To them, the only logical explanation would be the incapability of the doctor. Anything else would be too difficult to explain, too hard to handle."

"Hmmm," Kate acknowledged, "Her last name was Brookes. I'll call the hospital to ask for records." She realised then that she had been so furious and confused in the hospital that she had not pursued this line of investigation right away. Any detective on the job would know that the longer the investigation took, the more clues will get buried, the harder it would have been to dig affairs up and piece details together. The way she has been acting was only going to let Josh down and she knew it, clear as day. There was no space for private emotions in a murder case. This was not the way Detective Beckett should have and would have handled the matter. Perhaps the Captain was right. She should not be on this case at all.

Even now, the events of yesterday tore at her heart in a different way, in a manner that imposed on her need for rational thought as a detective. Why were there so many things about Josh's life she had no clue about? Did she push him to cheat on her? Was it because she was so closed off, so limited, that he had to turn elsewhere for affection? His accusation of her never intending to let him in rang in her mind like a fire alarm, and it banged on the inside of her head. It felt like something gripped her throat and it took additional effort to breathe. It seemed this way lately – that she had to remind herself to breathe, and the pain in her lungs became second nature to her.

"Hey," Castle placed his warm hand gingerly over hers, and she looked up at him. His eyes were gentle, and the lines around them betrayed the toll the past few days had taken on him.

"You're an excellent detective, the best I know. Your strength amazes me, inspires me." He smiled, like an old man recounting the good old days. "But you're also human. Give yourself a break."

Trust Rick to know her thoughts before she thought them; grasp her feelings before she felt them. Kate's face cracked into a smile, and Rick felt lighter immediately. She turned the hand that Rick had grasped, so that her palm faced his, and enveloped his large warm hand with a light squeeze. Thank you, the gesture said. Always, his eyes responded.

Kate's gaze dropped downward, as she failed to hide the widening of her illuminating smile. "You only know three detectives," she bit the edge of her lower lip, "Being better than Ryan and Esposito shouldn't be too difficult."

Chuckling, Rick imagined the disapproving faces of Ryan and Esposito if they ever got wind of this news, and realised they would probably have gone on to argue who took second place. "Well, it's time you gave yourself a break, even if it was solely to give those two more work to do."

"Yes," Kate said, "In fact, they should still be pursuing the trail of the missing money in Josh's account."

"Do you think he owed someone money and was killed because of it?"

"Well, we have a few possible leads right now."

"That's good, isn't it?" Castle's gentle eyes were on her again, and she felt a sense of warmth creeping up her neck and threatening to bloom in her face.

"Yeah, that's good."

Their hands stayed in place as they sat in the car that morning, drawing strength and lending comfort.

* * *

><p>The 12th Precinct bustled with a drive that felt familiar and strangely comforting, that had always made Beckett feel alive. The activity and the idea that this activity was geared towards putting killers behind bars made Kate feel like she was a part of something larger than her. The 12th had never bothered itself with her personal affairs. It was not their issue that Kate had made a mess of her emotions, but she owed them, as well as the rest of the innocent victims, her duties and commitment as a detective.<p>

"Yo, Beckett!" Esposito's friendly greeting cemented her place in the precinct as a detective. Ryan looked up from his desk as Beckett and Castle strode in, and he smiled at them, his blues eyes crinkling. He waved a manila folder in confidence, "Perfect timing, Beckett. We have leads."

Ryan and Esposito had not seen Beckett in half a day, and it was not like her to leave a case without contacting them. However, if anyone needed the space and time, it was Beckett. During her absence, Castle had called in to mention the developments in the case, including the fact that Josh had been involved with a doctor at the hospital. Neither Ryan nor Esposito had the heart or the courage to broach the subject, but they refused to display any form or expression of pity for their favourite female detective either. They knew that pity was the last thing Kate would have craved from them, and so they supported her in the way they knew how – by helping to solve the case.

When Esposito saw Beckett walking into the station with Castle with a visibly more relaxed demeanour, he had exchanged a relieved look with Ryan. As they approached Kate's desk, Esposito nodded towards Castle while Ryan patted him on the back, silently thanking him for taking care of their own.

As the four convened around Beckett's desk, Kate inspected the faces of her two co-workers. They smiled upon her, comforted by her presence as she was by theirs, their easy grins only slightly masking their worry for the female detective. She knew that they were the most loyal, most protective friends she had, more than she could ever deserve. In that moment, enhanced only by the knowledge of Castle standing next to her, Kate resolved that she had to pull herself together, and that she had all the reasons in the world to pull herself together.

"Wait a moment, guys, let me update you on a new lead I've got from New York Presbyterian yesterday," Beckett said.

"About that," Ryan began, "We checked into Doctor Miller's alibi. Charts and nurses confirm that she was in a four-hour surgery during the time of the murder."

Kate blinked, but allowed her confusion to pass, looking up at Castle and nodding at him, once again grateful for his help. He had saved her in all the different and little ways she did not even realise he needed him to. Castle only nodded wordlessly in return, acknowledging that he had been the one to inform the two other detectives.

Esposito continued for his partner, "Remember the missing money from Josh's account? We have tracked the phone calls around the period the money disappeared. He was repeatedly in contact with this man. The phone calls stopped after that period." He proceeded to pull a mug shot out of the folder Ryan was holding, revealing a middle-aged bearded man, with brown hair and eyes, looking like he had seen more of the world than he had preferred to. "Jackson Martin. Arrested one time for a bar fight, but nothing else on his rap sheet indicated a bad element. He did, however, have a taste for the ponies."

"Betting on horses, huh?" Castle spoke up, "Could this be related to the missing money? Maybe he threatened or somehow maneuvered the money from Josh."

Looking meaningfully from Castle to Esposito, Beckett asked, "How did he know Josh?"

"It turns out that he and Josh went to med school together. Columbia University." Ryan responded.

"Him?" Castle raised his eyebrows, "I wouldn't want to end up on his operating table."

"Hmmm," Ryan nodded in agreement, "He dropped out after two years, but I supposed he maintained contact with Josh throughout the years."

"What about his finances?" Kate put her chin in her palm and frowned.

"He's barely surviving on anything," Esposito said, "In fact, we could not even locate his job."

"Does he have an address?" Kate asked.

In response, Ryan took a piece of torn paper from the folder in his hands and waved it cheerfully.

"Okay, go pick him up. Castle and I will deal with the other lead – the one about the patient who died on Josh's table."

Ryan and Esposito nodded, returning to their desks, when Lanie's voice announced her arrival in the building. "Kate!"

Lanie was dressed in a white medical robe, with a blue blouse and black striped pants. Turning her head to catch Lanie strolling around the corner from the elevator, Kate gave her a small smile. "What have you got, Lanie?"

"How're you doing, girl?"

"I'm fine, Lanie," Kate responded in what she hoped was a reassuring tone, but Lanie still cocked her head sideways as if to say _Don't you even try to lie to me_. "I am fine, don't worry."

"Yeah, don't worry, Doctor Parish, I made sure Kate got a love-filled breakfast." Castle interjected, and Lanie piqued up at the comment, a teasing look soon adorning her face. Rolling her eyes to cover a blush and an uncomfortable knot in her stomach, Beckett cleared her throat, "Lanie?"

Rick, realising he had said more on the issue than was warranted by Kate, quickly muttered something about getting coffee from the break room and excused himself from the female company. Biting back a Castle-related comment, Lanie said, "Well, I'm just here to inform you that Josh was killed by a Glock .45."

Kate nodded, and the image of Josh in his bloodied shirt, with his vacant eyes, dead on the alley ground, surfaced. The searing image of Josh's body juxtaposed with the joy of Castle's presence and the love-filled breakfast she had just eaten, and Kate felt sick to her stomach, as if her body was physically manifesting the guilt that overwhelmed her. Swallowing, and reminding herself once again to breathe, she shouted over to Ryan and Esposito as they began to leave the station, "Hey guys, do a preliminary sweep to see if Jackson Martin has a .45, just in case. No warrant, so plain view."

"Got it!" Ryan yelled back, as he and Esposito headed towards the exit.

"Anything else?"

At any other time, Lanie would have raised her eyebrows playfully and jabbed at Kate with a comment about Castle preparing breakfast for her. This time, she just shook her head. She reached out for Kate's upper arm and said, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Kate took a deep breath and smiled at Lanie, touched at her friend's concern. "I really am fine, Lanie," She said, meaning it more than she has for days.

Okay, Lanie seemed to acknowledge with her eyes.

"You didn't need to come all the way down to tell me about the model of the gun," Kate stated simply, as she cleared some of the folders and letters on her desk absent-mindedly.

"I just wanted to see how you were." Lanie continued to look concerned.

Glancing up again at her friend, Kate's face broke into a genuine smile, wondering for the millionth time today how she managed to retain such amazing people in her life.

"Go back to work Lanie," Kate laughed, "I am fine." Even as Kate spoke the words she so frequently recited, and even as she meant it to the friend she could never lie to, she felt like the words were not hers, that she had said them so much, they began to taste foreign, unreal, and unlike words.

As Lanie left, Kate thought about Josh, wondering if she had stayed loyal to him the way her friends were committed to her. She wondered, in the way a reader goes through a worn and frayed book, if she had loved him enough to deserve the kindness that accompanied his death. Noticing Castle exiting and break room and carrying two cups of freshly brewed coffee, Kate wondered if she deserved Castle at all, and if Josh deserved her quick acceptance of Castle's presence and his love-filled coffee.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hi guys. I'm terribly sorry about the late update. While my story is not insanely famous, I am aware that I owe it to my readers to update as regularly as I can. I took a mini-hiatus from writing fanfiction altogether, and when I started again, this chapter just refused to be written. <strong>_

_**There were so many emotions that the characters were grappling with, especially Beckett, that I wanted to do justice to the character. Also, I had to move along the investigation, and I was so afraid you guys would have forgot what happened with Josh's case. Anyway, please leave me some feedback as to how I can improve, and I hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless. **_


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